Bhagavan’s Compassion
Bhagavan was in Brindavan in April I994. The ashram brimmed with people from all over the world. Every one of them had come there to seek Baba’s blessings for success in their varied endeavors, mundane and spiritual. Once the darshan [sight of a holy person] concluded, we could see people moving out of the Sai Ramesh Hall with beaming faces. All of them had surely received the gift of joy from the Lord even if some had failed to draw His physical attention to their pleas, oral or written.
On one such morning, a poor sweeper named Ramayya and his wife waited to offer the first invitation card to their daughter’s marriage to Bhagavan. Ramayya was a native of Dinnur, a neighboring village. Being an integral part of the Sathya Sai Boys’ Hostel situated in the ashram since its inception, he was privileged to stand at the corner of the hostel facing the mandir gate. It was called the ‘elephant corner,’ since a cement concrete elephant sat there on its knees with its trunk raised. It looked as though the mute pachyderm wanted to draw Baba’s attention when He emerged from the mandir and walked toward the darshan hall.
There was trepidation in Ramayya’s heart as he stood there with the invitation card placed amidst flowers on a tray. This was the first marriage in their family and he was anxious to receive the divine blessings. He had made it a point to put on his best khaki uniform provided by the hostel so that Baba would not miss him. As he waited there, a doubt crept into his mind whether Bhagavan would take the trouble of walking all the way to the hostel corner instead of taking the straight path toward the hall—the doubt helped him pray more intensely.
Swami came out of the mandir at 8 a.m. and looked at the couple; but He chose to walk straight into the hall. Ramayya’s heart beat faster and finally when Bhagavan went back to the mandir after granting darshan in the hall for about thirty minutes, he was thoroughly disappointed.
I was the warden of the hostel where Ramayya had worked for more than twenty years. He had requested me to submit his prayer to Bhagavan for blessings for his daughter’s marriage and I had done so the previous evening. I had eagerly expected Swami to bless Ramayya that morning. In fact, it was I who had permitted the couple to stand at the ‘elephant corner.’
After the morning darshan, Bhagavan called a few devotees for an interview and as l walked out of the mandir compound, I saw Ramayya standing at the gate with despair writ large on his face. I advised him to continue to pray and wait at the hostel corner. There was a probability of Swami going out in the car after He finished the interviews. If He did so, there was an opportunity for the couple to offer the invitation. But nothing was certain.
Time passed very slowly for Ramayya who waited there with bated breath. He continued to look at the gate with eyes wide-open and a wailing heart. When it was ten minutes past nine there was a flurry of activity with sevadal [volunteers] members rushing to the gates that were thrown open suddenly. But there was no sign of the car. Bhagavan walked out and headed straight to the ‘elephant corner’ with His right palm moving in mystic circles. Ramayya’s heart danced with joy as his beloved Lord approached. The couple sank to their knees with tears in their eyes and held up the tray with the invitation, flowers, and ‘akshata’ —the sacred grains of rice. Baba stood before them, looked at them with merciful eyes, picked up the invitation and showered akshata on their heads.
Then, His compassionate voice rang out, “l know you were disappointed during the darshan. What could I do? Today is Monday and it is inauspicious rahukalam [time which is inauspicious for a function or purpose] between seven-thirty and nine. I did not want to bless you at that time. Now I have come all the way for your sake!” The couple sobbed with joy as they fell at His lotus feet.
The saga of compassion did not end there. When I met Swami that afternoon, He was ready with a few gorgeous silk saris in His hands. He wanted to gift one to Ramayya’s wife and another to the bride. When He placed all of them in my hands, I was surprised. But He knew my thoughts. He said, “Take these to them; let them select the ones they like.” I blurted out in my foolishness, “Swami, they will be happy with whichever sari you give.” “But l want to give them what they like most!” replied the Lord.
Needless to say, I was overwhelmed by His kindness for His daughters! Is He not the father and mother of one and all? What does it matter for Him, if they were just the wife and daughter of the sweeper? A touching scene, that was enacted a few months before, came to my mind. Sri Atal Bihari Vajpayee, who became the Prime Minister of India a few years later, had come to Brindavan to seek Bhagavan’s blessings. As he parted from Baba at the door of ‘The ‘Trayee Mandir [in Bangalore],’ he held Bhagavan’s hands and asked, “Swami, may I come to the doorstep of Your home more often?” Baba answered, “This is not My home. It is your mother’s home!”
Source: Sathyam Sivam Sundaram, Vol. 7
